


Replay

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: Prowl x Jazz Hallowe'en Challenge 2019 [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One, Transformers – All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe – Supernatural, Community: prowlxjazz, Community: trope_bingo, Community: whatif-au, Developing Relationship, Family, Gen, Ghosts, Haunted House, Haunting, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Murder, Meeting, Moving, Mystery, Siblings, Trope Bingo Round 13, flirtation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 08:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20991842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: After moving to a new town, Prowl hoped for a quiet summer before he left to start at the Academy. But when Prowl tries to help a new neighbour out, they wind up uncovering something long hidden.





	Replay

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [The Prowl x Jazz Community](https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org)'s [Halloween Bingo 2019](https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org/1745822.html#comments) on [Dreamwidth](https://prowlxjazz.dreamwidth.org) and used for [Trope Bingo](https://www.trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org) [Round 13](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TropeBingo_RoundThirteen/profile) (Prompt: Free Space (Supernatural AU)), the [What If? AU Challenge's](https://whatif-au.dreamwidth.org) October 2019 [Supernatural AU challenge](https://whatif-au.dreamwidth.org/tag/challenge31), and the [Spooktober Challenge (Prompt: Haunted House).](https://spooktoberchallenge.dreamwidth.org/732.html)

Prowl set down the last crate and looked around the still mostly empty room he'd chosen in the new house. He hadn't wanted to move, but he'd just barely come of age, and he couldn't afford to live on his own. Even when he went to the Academy, when the new semester began, he'd have to share a dorm room. So when they'd had to move because his Creator had lost his job and moved to his hometown for another, Prowl hadn't had any say in it. Prowl would have preferred to remain in Praxus, where he could have lived in their apartment instead of a dorm, but that was no longer feasible. Fortunately, his First Creators had retired to Luna II but kept their house on the outskirts of the city, and they let their creation and his creations live there rent-free. Chase, Prowl's creator, had shared enough of the household finances with him that Prowl understood the necessity of it. Prowl had tuition coming due, Bluestreak had just had his adolescent upgrades, and his adult ones would come all too soon. After Bluestreak got his upgrades, he would either attend university or learn a trade, and that also would cost shanix. Prowl understood that the move was what made the most financial sense.

Bluestreak wavered between thinking of the new house as a fascinating new adventure and hating it, Prowl leaving, and the very concept of change itself. He proved that now by stomping into Prowl's room and showily throwing himself on the bed.

"This sucks out loud."

"Welcome to my room," Prowl said drily. "Please, come in and make yourself at home."

Bluestreak had folded his arms and buried his face in them. His complaint of, "this isn't home," was slightly muffled.

Prowl sighed and sat down next to his sibling, putting a comforting hand on his back. Bluestreak's doors drooped dejectedly to either side of him.

"I know it's hard," Prowl said. "I didn't want to move either."

"Yeah, but you get to go back soon, you're just gonna 'charge in a different building. Oh, but I can still talk to my friends on comms, right? I'll make new ones, a new school will be like an adventure, blah blah blah." Bluestreak flopped onto his side and glared miserably at his older sibling. "I've heard it all from Creator. And our First Creators, and my teachers and my friend's parents. It still sucks."

"I know. It does."

"What if I don't make new friends? What if – what if I'm all alone once you leave? I mean, Creator'll be here, but…"

"A creator is different than a sibling, or even someone your own age," Prowl agreed. "I know. I'm going to miss you too."

"Could I come with you?" Bluestreak asked, although, from his tone, it was clear he didn't expect a 'yes.'

"No, little spark," Prowl said gently. "Not yet. Maybe once I've graduated and begun working, you can come to stay with me if you choose to study in Praxus."

"Yeah. I guess." Bluestreak sat up a little. "Prowl? Can I stay in your room tonight? Like-like when I was younger, and I had bad dreams, and Creator was away?"

Prowl did love his sibling, even when Bluestreak was sulky, infringed on his personal space, or talked incessantly. "Of course you can."

* * *

Bluestreak was able to sleep that night, but Prowl didn't have the same luck, not least because Bluestreak had an irritating tendency to knock a foot against Prowl's just as he was about to drop off. Prowl understood that Bluestreak's proprioceptors hadn't entirely caught up with the new dimensions of his superstructure, but it was still annoying.

"Settle down, Bluestreak," he whispered. "Please?"

It didn't work, and Prowl finally gave up and got up, planning to walk around the house just a little bit until Bluestreak was in a deeper sleep and hopefully less twitchy. The house was dark and utterly silent, the moons' light casting everything in shades of silver and gray. The shadows were deep where the light didn't reach. It was unlike Praxus, where there was always light from streetlamps, driving and flying mecha, and other buildings. Their house was spaced too far from the other houses on the street for any light to reach, even if the other homes hadn't been dark.

Or, no. Not completely dark. The house across the street, set far back on the lot, had a strange light in it, one that moved, floating as if it were being carried by someone. Perhaps the inhabitant had wanted something, late at night, and was using a torch instead of using the house lights? Cybertronians generally had excellent night vision, and there was certainly enough light for Prowl to see by, but there were exceptions. Only, the light went out when the mech carrying it would have been only halfway across the living room, provided the other house's layout was similar to Prowl's family's.

Odd, very odd. But perhaps there was an interior light source Prowl couldn't see, concealed behind blackout shutters, for instance, and the mech had switched to using that. Or had decided to sit in their living room and play a game or read on their HUD. Prowl knew from his creator's stories that mecha did strange things sometimes. He also wasn't sure what was on the other side of the house and supposed it could have been someone's headlights reflecting strangely through the windows, especially if they were driving slowly.

Prowl watched for almost another klik, but the light didn't come back. He went back to bed, where Bluestreak was finally still enough for Prowl to get some sleep. Prowl didn't think any more about the light.

* * *

Bluestreak came home from his first day of school and entered their creator's room, where Prowl was helping Chase move some furniture around. The juvenile stopped only briefly in the kitchen for a rust stick.

"This kid in my class, Smokescreen, says the house across from ours is haunted," Bluestreak announced. "He says there was a murder there a vorn ago, and it's been haunted ever since."

"Smokescreen's just trying to scare you," Chase said calmly, holding a shelf so Prowl could fix it in place. "There's no such thing as ghosts. Other than that, how was school?"

Bluestreak shrugged. "Fine, I guess. Anyway, I'm not scared. I think it's cool. The ghost story part, I mean, not the murder."

"Your First Creators were living here a vorn ago, and they never mentioned a murder or ghosts," Chase told him. "I'm sure it's just a story."

"I know. Prowl, what are you doing? Can I help?"

Prowl didn't particularly need help, but he didn't want to shut his sibling out when Bluestreak was already upset with things (sometimes), so he showed the young mech how to put up a shelf so that it was level. Prowl was relieved to see Bluestreak expressing an interest in a family activity, at least one of sorts. Bluestreak's anger at the upheaval in their lives had led to the distance between himself and Chase. They'd been close before all of this happened, and Prowl hoped they would be again.

Prowl had been spending more time with his creator than Bluestreak had recently, so when the shelves were up, and Bluestreak sat next to Chase, actually talking to him for the first time in ages, Prowl slipped quietly away. It would be good for them to have some time alone together, talk, maybe get starting patching things up.

* * *

The next morning was pleasantly warm. Bluestreak was off to school, and Chase was only unpacking and was unlikely to need Prowl's assistance. So, Prowl took a book he'd been reading and went out to sit on the front terrace. There was a bench there in the shade of the house where Prowl could easily hear if his creator called for him, and see down the road if he were out so long Bluestreak came home from school. He was also able to see a moving van pull into the driveway of the house where he'd seen the strange light that first night. Prowl watched as the transport mech disengaged his trailer then transformed to help begin carrying crates and furniture inside. It seemed to be the season for new residents, then, first themselves and now someone in Bluestreak's allegedly haunted house. Based on the guitar-case-like shapes being carried inside by the black-and-white mech who'd pulled in immediately after the transport mech, the new resident was a musician. They could also be a luthier, Prowl supposed, but he didn't think any of the crates being carried in held tools or materials for making stringed instruments. Although, those could arrive in a second shipment or be packed in such a way Prowl didn't recognize them.

Prowl did eventually go back to his book. One could only watch boxes being carried for so long before having had one's fill, and he wanted to finish at least this chapter before Bluestreak got home.

Prowl had plenty of time to read since his creator didn't need assistance with anything and wanted to give Prowl some time to himself. So he was still outside joors later when the new neighbour sauntered across the street and up their drive to where Prowl sat. Prowl stood to greet them and saw that they had a bright blue visor and red and blue accents on their armour. The vertical stripes framing their chest seam were particularly enticing. Prowl liked their mouth, generous and promising, as well, and that feeling was not lessened when they smiled and waved.

"Hey there, neighbour," the new mech said brightly, sending Prowl an ID ping. "I'm Jazz."

"Prowl," he replied, returning the ping and holding out his hand to be shaken. Jazz's shake was good: firm without being crushing, and he didn't hold on too long.

"Good to meet you, Prowl. Ah, do you know where a mech could make a comm call around here?" Jazz asked. "The house comm suite isn't online yet, and I don't know where the public terminals are around here yet."

Prowl knew because he'd memorized them before moving in.

"The closest one is just over a breem's drive away," Prowl answered, adding, "but I'm sure you don't want to drive anymore after moving boxes and equipment all day. You can use ours if you like."

Jazz looked grateful. Fresh from his own moving day, Prowl understood. "Appreciate it, mech, thanks."

Jazz's call was to his mentor, and while Prowl didn't exactly eavesdrop, he wasn't about to leave someone, he'd just met alone in his house, especially since Chase was upstairs and Prowl didn't want to disturb him. It seemed the mentor would be moving in as well at some unspecified future date, and Jazz was assuring them everything had gone well. Prowl didn't catch the mentor's name, exactly: Jazz simply referred to them as 'Step, with a marker on the first syllable indicating it was an abbreviation.

Prowl, like Bluestreak, was the result of a code merge between mecha and Chase had hosted his spark until it was developed enough to install in a structure. Prowl had come online as a juvenile and matured through that stage to adolescence, where Bluestreak was now, and then to adulthood. Since Jazz had a mentor, it meant he would have been brought online as an adult, his spark requested from Vector Sigma, and given into the care of an adult mech who would teach him a profession, perhaps bring him into their business. Jazz was required to be under the supervision of his mentor for approximately a deci-vorn. Some mecha had a teacher-student or employer-employee relationship with their mentor or protégé and some were closer, considering each other friends or even family. Jazz and his mentor seemed to fall into the latter category since they finished their call with 'love you's from both sides.

"Thanks again, Prowl," Jazz said, standing. "Passed the point where I have to be under my mentor's care about a stellar-cycle ago, but he still worries."

Prowl nodded. "He's going to join you here, though?"

"Yeah. We work together often enough; there's no point in me living on my own. Besides," Jazz shrugged as they headed to the front door, "we get along really well. I'd have to have a roommate anyway, might as well be someone I know I can live with."

"I suppose that's true," Prowl said, remotely signalling the door to open. "I – "

Bluestreak thumped in through the door, and Prowl bit back a sigh and wondered when his sibling was going to learn to walk like a reasonable person.

"Hi, Prowl, I – " Bluestreak stopped abruptly. "Hey, who's this?"

"Bluestreak, this is Jazz," Prowl said. "He moved in across the road as of today. Jazz, this is my sibling, Bluestreak."

"You're going to live in the house across the road? Did you know your house is haunted?" demanded Bluestreak, while behind Jazz Prowl face-palmed at his sibling's lack of tact. "Oh. And hi."

Jazz just chuckled at him. "Hi to you too, Bluestreak. And yeah, the realtor mentioned the house is supposed to be haunted, but I'm not worried."

Prowl noticed that Jazz didn't say whether he did or did not believe in ghosts, carefully avoiding insulting Bluestreak whether the juvenile believed in ghosts or not. It was tactful and Prowl appreciated it.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Bluestreak asked.

"I just don't get why a mech would hang around where they died, y'know?" Jazz said reasonably. "Especially like that."

Bluestreak looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Plus, Prowl says ghosts aren't real, so they're probably not."

"Probably," Jazz agreed, glancing over at Prowl. There was a smile threatening to break out at the corner of Jazz's mouth. Prowl liked it.

"Yeah." Bluestreak changed topics, and Prowl swore he hadn't been this mercurial in his own early adolescence. "I gotta go. I told Smokescreen I'd call him when I got home 'cause we're working on a class project together."

"Yeah, I gotta get going too," Jazz said. "My place isn't going to get any more unpacked if I'm hanging out here."

Bluestreak made a face. "Unpacking sucks. I still have to finish unpacking all my stuff too."

"Homework first," Prowl said automatically. '_And manners_,' he added in a private comm. He got a quasi-rude glyph in return, but Bluestreak did remember his manners, saying good-bye to Jazz and telling the musician it had been nice to meet him before heading off.

"Your sibling seems nice," Jazz commented as they left the house. "Freshly upgraded, though?"

"Yes."

Prowl walked Jazz down the drive; he hadn't meant to, but it was good to have a conversation with someone who wasn't a relative. Prowl had used to talk to his court-mate or tried to, but that mech had not been willing to listen or give Prowl the support he needed. Prowl couldn't exactly regret breaking up with them in light of that, but that didn't mean it hadn't hurt.

"Mhm. Never been through it or had a sibling, but a few friends have kids that went through it." They came to the road and stopped. "Really do appreciate you letting me use your comm suite. Maybe once I'm settled, and I get my bearings, I could take you out for a drink sometime as thanks?"

Several reasons he shouldn't cascaded through Prowl's mind, but what came out of his voice box was, "I'd like that, thank you."

"Alright. I'll pop over once I'm not surrounded by boxes, and we'll work something out. Bye, Prowl!"

"Goodbye," Prowl said, still surprised at himself, as Jazz headed off across the street. Prowl lingered for a moment, unsure of why, but Jazz did not look back.

* * *

Prowl found himself unable to sleep again that night, and not because his sibling was kicking him. Bluestreak had only stayed in Prowl's room the first night, though Prowl thought he might have stayed with Chase on another, and apart from that had been sleeping in his own room. Still, Prowl couldn't resist going to check on him.

Chase had had the same idea and was standing in the doorway of Bluestreak's room, watching him sleep and smiling warmly at him. He looked over at Prowl, no less fondly, when his eldest approached.

"Is he alright?" Prowl asked in a deliberately soft voice.

"He's fine," Chase whispered, stepping away so the door would slide closed. "I just wanted to look at him for a bit. I feel like I've barely seen him since his upgrades."

"He's still settling into his upgrades," Prowl said, thinking of Bluestreak thumping through the door earlier. "But he seems to have adapted to his new school quite well. I think he's becoming friends with this Smokescreen he talks about so much."

"Yes, I think so too." Chase put a hand on Prowl's shoulder and guided him down the hallway so they wouldn't risk waking Bluestreak up. "What about you?"

"Creator?"

"Prowl. You've been a great help to me, looking after Bluestreak through all of this. I appreciate it, brightspark, more than I can tell you, but you shouldn't have to look after your sibling. You should be going out, having fun." Chase paused and then added quietly, "is it the breakup, still?"

"A little bit," Prowl said frankly, pleased with himself for not flinching emotionally. "But that's gotten a lot easier."

"You're so young, lovey. You'll find someone when you're ready." They were at Chase's room now, and he let go of Prowl's shoulder. "You're up late because you're worrying, aren't you? Prowl, we're fine, you don't need to put yourself through this." He sighed, looking at his eldest with love in his optics. "Sometimes, I swear, I don't know where you came from. So responsible, so analytical and cautious. And you're newly an adult, you should be out having fun, with – well, I suppose you haven't had a chance to make any friends here, and I am sorry for that."

"Jazz and I are going out for a drink once he's unpacked," Prowl offered, wanting to reassure his creator. "That's a start. And I'll be able to socialize with my friends again once I go to the Academy."

"You could have gone for the spring term, you know," Chase reminded him.

"You and Bluestreak needed me," Prowl said firmly. "It's not that long, Creator, you know I don't mind."

Chase smiled, a little sadly, at his creation. "I know."

"Besides," Prowl added, "I think I needed the time away, after – well."

"I know. You know that you can talk to me about it, don't you, Prowl?" Chase asked. "About anything, lovey."

"I know, but I don’t want to talk about it yet." No matter how much Prowl loved him, Chase was not the best source of advice when it came to romantic relationships or their aftermath. Prowl hugged his creator. "I'll be fine, I'm just going to sit up and read a bit."

"Alright. Don't stay up too late."

Prowl took one of his books and went down to the living room. He read for a joor then decided to try again to get some rest. When he shut off his datapad and looked up, he thought the faint light he saw was just afterimage from the data pad's screen, which had been bright enough to interfere with night vision. A quick refresh of his visual feed put paid to that idea, and Prowl remembered the strange light he'd seen his first night here. Prowl ran a quick comparison of that memory to what he saw now and found that it was identical down to the last pixel.

That was very odd. Unless someone was, very deliberately, repeating the same movements again, there should have been at least minor variations. Even if it were a strange reflection of headlights from the other side, Prowl would have expected at least small fluctuations.

The light disappeared at the same spot. Prowl was curious about it, but he would have only planned to stay up and watch for it another night if he hadn't seen Jazz come out of the front door and search around the front of the home. Concerned something might be wrong since Jazz's body language seemed to be communicating distress, Prowl quietly slipped out the front door and crossed to his new neighbour.

"Jazz," Prowl called quietly as he approached, mindful of the time and not wanting to startle the mech. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I – well, no." Jazz was clearly rattled. "Did the noise wake you up?"

"I didn't hear a noise," Prowl said. "I was in my living room and saw you leave the house. You looked disturbed, I came to check on you." He added, for honesty's sake, "I saw a strange light, but I didn't hear anything."

"A light?" Jazz frowned, obviously thinking back. "Maybe? But I could've sworn I heard someone banging on the outside of the house."

"Did you call the Enforcers?"

"Nope. Still no in-house comm suite – 'sides, what would I tell them?"

"If you contact emergency services using an onboard comm, they'll remotely boost the signal for you," Prowl said, looking around. "Do you know where the noise was coming from specifically?"

"Nah, that's the weird part, seemed to be coming from all around – front, sides, back, at the front again right before I came outside."

"I was looking at the front of the house when you came outside," Prowl said. "I saw no one."

"That's weird," Jazz said, frowning. "Like, really weird. Where'd you see this light?"

"Crossing that room," Prowl said, gesturing at the window he thought belonged to Jazz's living room. "I've seen it once before. I thought it was an inhabitant the first night, or perhaps the reflection of headlights from the street behind your house."

"The back terrace is enclosed by a wall," Jazz said. "You wouldn't get reflections from the street in the house. Is the neighbourhood under a flight path? Don't see how shuttle running lights would do it, but I leave the physics to the other bots."

"I don't believe so, no."

"Okay, well, something happened, and unless it was the ghost your sibling was talking about, I'm thinking it was someone local." Jazz ran a hand over his helm. "Look, you've already been really helpful, and I hate to ask this in the middle of the night, but would you come with me to check the house? Make sure the outside doors are all still locked, nothing looks weird, that kinda thing? I mean, whatever's happened, it's over now, so I don't wanna bother the local Enforcers."

Prowl agreed and helped Jazz check the property. There were no signs of disturbance, and all the windows and doors were closed and locked. The acid rain shutters were even up on the back of the house, making it even more unlikely someone had gotten in that way.

"They're stuck," Jazz said, regarding the shutters. "Got someone coming out to fix them, but it'll take a deca-cycle before they can make it. At least they're stuck down, instead of up."

"Will you be alright here alone?" Prowl asked once they'd finished their check.

"Yeah. I mean, it was weird and spooky, but it didn't actually hurt me, and we know the house is secure. I really appreciate you checking on me, too." They had circled back around to the front yard and were standing at Jazz's front door. "Think that's two drinks I owe you now."

Prowl shook his head. "You don't owe me. I’m happy to help."

"Okay, then, that's two drinks I want to share with you. Sound better?" Jazz teased gently.

Prowl smiled. "Yes. I – "

Jazz flung up a hand. "Wait. You hear that?"

Prowl listened. "No."

"Boost the gains on your audios."

Prowl did, and now he heard what Jazz heard; bangs and thumps, muted but definitely coming from the upper floor of the house. Jazz turned and bolted through the front door, followed immediately by Prowl. Once they reached the second floor, Prowl didn't need the boost to his audios to hear what sounded like something being dragged and then dropped. Jazz paused in the middle of the hallway, listening intently, but the noise seemed to be coming from too many places to zero in on. Then it stopped.

"Jazz?" Prowl said, uncertainly. Jazz held up a hand for silence then dropped it and shook his head.

"Dammit. I've lost it. Can't even tell where it was coming from, and I'm usually good with the direction of sounds."

"What's above us?" Prowl asked. "Just the attic space where the rain shutters are stored when they're up?"

"And the mechanics that go with them, yeah Door's through here." Jazz headed into one of the rooms – a bedroom, by the look of it, with a door to the attic – and Prowl followed, not wanting to leave him alone. "Can't see how anybody could've gotten in, but…" Jazz tried the door; it was locked using a manual lock.

Prowl knew that, for safety reasons, the door could most likely not be locked from the other side. No one could have gotten past them while they were in the hall.

"Is this the only entrance and exit?" Prowl asked.

"Yeah, it – "

Footsteps, heavy and strained as if the mech making them were carrying something, approached them, starting from the middle of the bedroom. Jazz and Prowl looked at each other and, very, very slowly, turned to look at the room.

A hazy, barely visible, form approached them. It was indistinct, although Prowl was sure part of it, at least, was mech-shaped. It passed between them and vanished through the closed door. Frozen, the two mecha listened to the footsteps go up the ramp to the attic and then simply stop.

Jazz stared at the door.

"So," he said after nearly a klik, not looking at Prowl. "How about that drink now?"

"Yes," Prowl said, also staring at the door. "I think so."

Down in the main room, Jazz opened a liquor cabinet and went straight past the mid-range, but still good, bottles of engex and spirits and pulled out a bottle of high-grade Protihexian whiskey. That was a stronger spirit than Prowl usually drank, but tonight he made no objection. The whiskey was a high enough grade that it glowed nearly white when Jazz poured it into glasses.

"I'm guessing you'll want this neat," he said, handing it to Prowl.

"Yes, thank you," Prowl said gratefully.

"Don't worry about sipping it." Jazz tossed his back and poured himself a second. "I'm not."

Prowl also downed his, a thing he did not normally do, relishing the burn and held his glass out for a refill which Jazz readily provided. They did drink their refills a bit more sedately.

"So," Jazz said, dropping into a chair across from where Prowl sat on the couch. Prowl typically would have found the way Jazz sprawled appealing, but physical attraction was the last thing on his mind just then. "I live in a haunted fucking house."

For some reason, that struck Prowl as funny, and he started to laugh, which he recognized as a release of tension. After a nano-klik, Jazz joined in.

"I'll have to tell Bluestreak he was right," Prowl said, once the laughter started to die down. "Oh, Primus, there'll be no living with him."

Which reminded him, his family didn't know why he was out of the house. Prowl quickly sent his creator and sibling a soft ping, which would give them information when they woke but wouldn't wake them, letting them know he was helping Jazz and would be home soon.

"I gotta ask Half-step if he knew about this," Jazz said. "I can't believe you didn't hear the noise from across the street. It sounded like some was being – " He cut himself off abruptly.

"Being murdered," Prowl finished softly, suddenly wholly sober. "Bluestreak's classmate told him someone had been murdered in this house a vorn ago."

"So what'd we see, then? The body being dragged up to the attic?"

Prowl shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know anything about the history of this house beyond what Bluestreak told me, and Creator said that his creators didn't mention anything about a murder happening a vorn ago."

"What about before that?" Jazz wanted to know. "This where your creator grew up?"

"No, my First Creators bought our house after he'd left home." Prowl did not volunteer the reason they'd moved to this town and Jazz didn't ask.

"Guess I'll look it up tomorrow. I'm supposed to have my DataNet access up and running then." Jazz looked up. "Seems to be over, at least. I won't be sleeping tonight, I don't think. Guess I'll practice or something."

"I'll stay with you if you like," Prowl offered. "I don't like the idea of leaving you alone here. I'd say ghosts can't hurt you, but until five kliks ago, I didn't think they were real either. I can't think of a different explanation for what we saw, however."

"Sound and light show, maybe," Jazz suggested. "I can do a bit of that, just not quite as much as what we saw. But that'd take speakers, holo projectors, and some kind of device to make the place vibrate like I felt earlier. I checked the wiring in the place earlier to make sure it could handle our gear, and it isn't up to running the equipment that could do what we saw. So we're back to ghosts, I guess." Jazz knocked back the rest of his drink. "Still gotta find something for you to do if you're sticking with me. D'you play?"

"No."

"Wanna learn?" Jazz asked. "I've got Half-step's old practice keyboard set up, he won't mind me giving you a lesson or two. 'Sides, a little music always helps soothe the spark."

"I don't know if my attempts at music would be soothing."

"Not if you don't give it a shot." Jazz got to his feet. "C'mon. It'll take our minds off things. I'll bring the whiskey too."

"To make my playing bearable?"

Jazz smiled. "You're fine, I'm sure." He wiggled his fingers coaxingly. "Might like it. Might have talent, never know until you try."

Well, it wasn't as if Prowl would be sleeping tonight. He took Jazz's hand and let the other mech pull him to his feet.

Prowl would never headline a concert, that was a certainty, but eventually, he stopped feeling unnerved and just enjoyed himself. The lack of ghostly noises definitely helped, and so did the whiskey. And Jazz.

* * *

Explaining his night to Chase was interesting.

"Prowl, brightspark, are you _sure_ that's what you saw?" Chase asked gently. "And heard?"

"Jazz saw and heard it too," Prowl said. "I can replay the memory for you."

Chase agreed, and Prowl linked up with his creator to transfer the data. Chase was silent for some time, most likely not just replaying the memory but analyzing it with every method at his disposal.

"I can't find anything to indicate it was a trick," Chase said finally. "And Jazz's reactions do seem to have been genuine. But he's a performer, and there is the technology to do what you saw. I can't scan for that, though."

"I know. I thought of that, but – I can't explain it, but I don't think Jazz was faking or trying to trick me." Prowl moved a little closer to his creator, automatically seeking reassurance and wasn't disappointed when Chase rubbed his arm gently. "I'm sure it was real. I don't want to believe ghosts are real, but I can't explain what we experienced any other way."

"I believe you, Prowl."

"You mean you believe I experienced something," Prowl corrected. "Not that it was a ghost."

Chase smiled, caught. "Yes, well, if I'm going to believe anyone when they say they saw a ghost, it'd be you. So, what are you going to do now?"

Prowl had left Jazz's house in the early morning, once time (and high-grade) had done their jobs, and they were finally tired enough to get some rest, spirits or no. Prowl had come home, gone straight to bed and recharged through the day. Chase had finally woken him up by coming in to check on him, which was why they were sitting on Prowl's bed, talking.

"I don't know," Prowl admitted. "Jazz is going to look up the history of the house. Perhaps we'll learn something then."

"Perhaps. Are you going to tell Bluestreak he was right about the house being haunted?"

"Do you really want him out at all hours trying to see the ghost?" Prowl countered.

Chase chuckled. "No, I suppose not. Yes, keeping this from your sibling, at least for now, is probably the best choice." Chase stood up, saying, "If I can trust anyone in this family to have good judgment, it's you, Prowl." He kissed his eldest creation gently on the centre of his chevron. "Be careful, sweetspark."

"Yes, Creator."

* * *

When Prowl saw Jazz, later that day, the mech didn't have any explanations for him.

"Nothing about a murder on the DataNet that I could find," Jazz said. "Or a disappearance. Not that hit the media, anyway."

"Or their disappearance was never recorded," Prowl said thoughtfully. "If I murdered someone – "

"Seems even less likely than ghosts."

" – I would not report them missing."

"Yeah, suppose not. So," Jazz changed topics, "now that it's broad daylight, wanna go up to the attic and see if we can find anything?"

"Like what?" Prowl wanted to know.

"Well, I mostly wanna make sure there's not a corpse in my attic," Jazz admitted. "I mean, probably not, but…"

"It would set your mind at rest," Prowl finished. "I understand. I'll go."

There was indeed not a corpse in Jazz's attic, nor even any strange markings. Prowl would admit that a part of him had been hoping for drag marks or something similar, but there was nothing.

"Huh," Jazz commented, looking up, "whatever the problem is with these shutters, it isn't the winches. Wonder why only the back ones are stuck."

"A problem with the shutter arms or the hinges?" Prowl suggested. "That could prevent them from moving up." Chase had damaged his door's articulations that way once; it had been painful till it was fixed.

"Yeah, maybe. Stage rigging, I know, shutters not so much." Jazz wandered over and peered down into the gap between the shutters and the back wall of the house. He switched on his headlights, twisted back and forth, trying to see. "Damn, can't see over my hood. Prowl, can you do the lights, and I'll look?"

"Certainly."

Jazz got down on all fours and angled himself to try and see down. "I can't quite – yeah, looks like there's something." He tried to reach, but he couldn't reach down far enough. "Can't tell what it is. A box, maybe?"

Prowl suddenly had a bad feeling. "What kind of box?"

"Kind of long and…oh." Jazz pulled his arm out of the gap and sat back on his heels, looking up at Prowl. "I don't like where my mind's going. Do you?"

"No." Prowl switched off his headlights. "Go get some tools, whatever you have in the house that might help us reach or see."

"Yeah," Jazz said, standing up. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

Jazz came up with a non-sentient camera he'd attached to a pole with insulating tape and a tablet that would play the camera feed to them.

"Not really sure I want to see this," Jazz commented, "but…"

"But," Prowl agreed. He accepted the tablet and watched the feed while Jazz lowered the camera down.

Jazz looked over Prowl's arm and swore once they had a visual on the box. Prowl whole-sparkedly agreed. He shut off the feed showing a hand and a slender arm, with the suggestion of more beyond.

"There's a superstructure, at least," Jazz said quietly. "It's still terrible, but at least they're not…"

Prowl let his hands fall to his sides. "I think it's time to call the Enforcers."

Prowl and Jazz waited in the living room, not speaking, while the Enforcers removed the body of a dead mech from the house's attic. It took joors, and when the shutters were rolled up, the clatter made them both jump.

"Would you like to stay with us tonight?" Prowl asked now that the silence had been broken. "I don't think Creator will object, given the circumstances."

"Yeah, please."

All the explanation they gave to the Enforcers was that Jazz had been checking out the problem with the shutters and had asked Prowl to help. It was close enough to the truth.

"Any idea who they were?" Jazz asked the Enforcer in charge of the scene once everything had been cleaned up, and they were done being questioned.

"They were Crosstalk of Ibex, we think," the Enforcer said. "They lived here about a vorn ago with their partner Highwire. They were moving away anyway, and when Highwire left, everyone figured Crosstalk went with them. Since they were supposed to be gone and no one ever reported Crosstalk missing, no one ever looked."

"This Highwire still alive does anyone know?" Jazz asked.

The Enforcer was professionally neutral. "The investigation is ongoing."

* * *

Jazz and Prowl watched Jazz's house from the safety of Prowl's that night but didn't see the light cross the living room. Jazz's shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Think we're good?" he asked.

"I don't know," Prowl said honestly. "I hope so."

"Yeah, me too. Not what I expected when I asked the good-looking neighbour for directions."

"It's not what I expected when I let the handsome neighbour use the comm, either."

Jazz glanced at him. "Yeah?"

Prowl tended to feel shy when mecha flirted with him. But it was, frankly, ridiculous to feel shy around the person with whom you'd discovered a dead body. "Yes."

"Cool. Maybe, a couple of days from now, we can go for that drink, see what happens?" Jazz offered. "I'd say sooner but – a dead body in the house, kinda gotta get my head in a better place first."

"So do I," Prowl agreed. "It was shocking, to be certain but – at least Crosstalk's family, if he had any, will know what happened now and his killer, if he still lives, will face some form of justice."

"Yeah," Jazz agreed softly. "There's that, at least. The judgment of Primus, at least, and peace in the Well of All Sparks for Crosstalk – if you believe that kinda thing."

Prowl did not but the phrasing Jazz used suggested he did. "Wherever Crosstalk is, I hope all is well with them," he said diplomatically.

"Yeah," Jazz said, and moved a little closer. "Me too."


End file.
